


All the Pretty Girls Like Samuel

by gluedwithgold



Series: The Hidden Love Trilogy [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Drunk Sam Winchester, Fantasizing, Guilty Dean Winchester, Jealous Dean Winchester, M/M, Masturbation, Sibling Incest, Slutty Sam Winchester, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 14:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14167113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gluedwithgold/pseuds/gluedwithgold
Summary: Sam gets slutty when he's drunk.Dean gets jealous.





	All the Pretty Girls Like Samuel

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [non_tiembo_mala](http://archiveofourown.org/users/non_tiembo_mala) for the super-quick beta and as always all the support and love! <3
> 
> Title shamelessly stolen from Kaleo's "All the Pretty Girls". 
> 
> Written for [Sunday Morning Porn Club](http://smpc.livejournal.com/) on LiveJournal.

“Sam!” Dean yelled his brother’s name for the third time, and still got no response. From Sam. The girl wrapped around him like an octopus finally opened her eyes, pulled her lips away from Sam’s mouth, then tapped him on the shoulder. 

His brother turned his head, bleary-eyed, while loosening his grip on the girl’s hips so she slid slowly back to the floor. He took a half step back from where he’d had her pinned against the wall in the back corner and stared at Dean – a mixture of confusion, disbelief and irritation on Sam’s face. 

“C’mon,” Dean said, gesturing toward the door of the bar. “We gotta go.” 

“What?” Sam’s expression morphed into more confusion and little bit of concern. 

“Just… c’mon…” Dean grabbed Sam’s elbow and tugged, pulling his brother slightly off balance but it got him moving. 

Three stumbles and an apology to a drunken biker later, Dean hauled Sam out the door and across the parking lot to the Impala. He unlocked the passenger door first and pushed his brother into his seat before jogging around to the driver’s side. A few seconds later the engine roared to life and they were pulling out of the parking lot and headed down the road toward their motel. 

“Dean, what the hell was that?” Sam had straightened up in his seat, shaken his hair out of his face and apparently sobered enough to finally register what was happening.

“You’re drunk, Sammy. We’re on a case. Need to get some shut-eye.” Dean bit down on his bottom lip. 

“But I was–”

“Yeah, I know what you were doing. She was a skank, Sam – just looking out for you.” 

“Dean, I’m not that drunk. She was fine.” 

“Yeah, whatever. We still need to get some sleep. Witnesses to question in the morning.” 

“Are you jealous?” Sam scoffed, incredulous.

“I’m not– shut up, Sammy.” Dean rolled his eyes when Sam giggled. He wasn’t  _ jealous _ . He was just saving his little brother from making a mistake. He knew the guy – as soon as he sobered up he’d get all mopey and start talking about what a nice girl she was and how he should have given her his number. 

Matter of fact, Dean hoped Sam wouldn’t remember the night when he woke up tomorrow. He’d watched as Sam moved through three different girls over the course of the night. The first one chatted him up at the bar and dragged him onto the dance floor, writhing against him to some country ballad. The second one had invited herself to join them at their table, then practically sat in Sam’s lap – Dean couldn’t be sure but thought there was some heavy-duty groping going on under the table. Then Sam never came back after going to take a piss and Dean found him plastered against the third girl in the back corner, and from the looks of things his innocent little brother was about to start giving it to her right there. 

Dean glanced over to see Sam’s head tilted back against the seat back, eyes closed. Asleep or passed out. He turned back to the road, adjusted himself in his jeans. He  _ wasn’t  _ jealous. 

***

Dean stepped out of the bathroom, pulling the door half closed so a wide sliver of light lit up the motel room. He took a deep breath as he stared at the lump his brother made flopped across the bed where he’d deposited him after practically carrying him in from the car. Idiot was still passed out. 

He grabbed one of Sam’s feet and pried the shoe off, dropping it with a thunk to the floor next to the bed. As he was working off the other shoe, Sam started to stir. 

“D’n… wha ye d’n?” Sam started to pull his foot away, so Dean gripped his ankle tighter and wrenched the shoe off.

“Time for bed, Sasquatch. You gonna help me out here?” Dean stepped up between the beds while Sam rolled over onto his back. He kneeled on the bed, grabbed Sam by the arm and hauled him up, half sitting, and started shoving his flannel off his shoulder. Sam pulled himself up the rest of the way, his head thunking down on Dean’s chest. His shoulders began vibrating, then the giggle started. “What’s so funny?” 

“You’re jealous.” Sam slurred the words through his laughing as Dean freed one of his arms from a shirt sleeve. 

“Dude, I could’ve had any of the women in that place if I’d wanted. I’m not jealous.” 

Sam rubbed his forehead on Dean’s shoulder, his hand sliding closer, fingers wrapping around Dean’s thigh and gripping. 

“Noooo… not jealous of me… of the girls.” Sam let out another giggle, then turned serious, lifting his head to look Dean in the eye. “S’okay. I don’t mind.” 

Dean’s blood shot cold, Sam’s words sending a chill up his spine. He stared down at his brother – Sam’s eyes were half lidded but those multi-colored irises were just visible, spots of pink high on his cheekbones spread to the tip of his nose, and his bowed lips were parted slightly, wet and glinting in the low light. Dean shook his head once and forced himself back into motion, yanking the shirt down Sam’s other shoulder and off, tossing it across the room. He let go of Sam’s arm and let him fall back against the bed, bouncing once, his hair spreading out on the pillow. His mouth turned up in a smile as his eyes closed, an impish grin that made Dean wish he’d just pass out again. 

“Really, it’s okay Dean,” Sam mumbled, one hand sliding up his chest across the tight fabric of his T-shirt. “I know. Known for a long time. What you want. Want to fuck me, don’t you?” 

“Shut up and go to sleep, Sammy.” Dean turned from the bed, grabbed up Sam’s discarded shirt and fumbled trying to fold it. His hands were trembling. 

“I think… I think it’d be good, Dean. You think we can’t and we shouldn’t because… because we’re brothers. But… but fuck it. We’re not normal. Never gonna be. So fuck it. Why shouldn’t we? We both want it.” 

“Sam…” Dean closed his eyes, put as much warning in his brother’s name as he could.

“Bet it’d be so good, Dean. Feel so good with you on top of me, those lips… those damn lips of yours all over my skin, god…” Sam’s voice hitched and he let out a sigh. Dean opened his eyes in time to see Sam’s big hand sliding down his chest, across his abs and over the waistband of his jeans. Dean’s eyes followed Sam’s fingers as they traced the bulge pressing against the denim. “Mmm… you’d feel so good, Dean. Your cock pushing inside me, sliding in my ass all slicked up and hot…” 

“You’re drunk, Sammy. Go to sleep.” Dean’s voice was barely above a whisper as he dropped the shirt he’d been wringing in his hands and bolted for the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. He turned on the tap, cupped his hands under the stream of cold water and splashed his face. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, breathing and trying to calm the trembling that had overtaken his whole body. Sam. 

He tried to force the image of his brother writhing on the bed out of his head. He took some deep breaths, but it kept coming back, seared like a brand inside his eyelids. He’d had fantasies before. Once Sam hit puberty and shot up in height and his muscles filled out it was impossible not to imagine what he’d look like naked and spread out, warm tanned skin against bright white motel sheets. For years Dean had chalked it up to teenage hormones, when practically anything with a pulse would turn him on. But then he tackled his brother in his apartment in the middle of the night and it all came back. Or it was all still there. 

Dean took in a long, slow breath and let it out. His cock twitched in his jeans, pushing painfully against the metal zipper. He couldn’t go back out there. He couldn’t trust himself. Sam was drunk, didn’t know what he was saying. Dean knew he wouldn’t resist it if his brother started running his mouth like that again.

His zipper fell open, the pressure of his dick pushing against it forcing it down faster than his fingers pulled. He shoved his jeans and boxers down just past his hips, cool air dragging across his bare ass as he wrapped his fingers around his cock. His hips thrust forward involuntarily as he dragged his hand up, palm circling the head. 

His mouth fell open, his eyes slipped shut, and he dragged his hand back down, twisting as he went. The image of Sam laid out on the bed, long fingers tracing his own dick – except now Sam was naked, his cock hard, violently pink, leaking from the tip. Dean’s mouth watered and he choked back a moan. 

His imagination kicked into gear then, putting Dean on the bed, kneeling in front of his brother, hands sliding up his thighs. Sam spread his legs for Dean, thrust his hips up, welcoming. Dean let his fingers slide over Sam’s balls, then back, gliding over smooth, already-wet skin to the tight hole, a tremor of the muscle and a gasp from Sam’s lips as Dean’s index finger slipped inside. 

Dean’s breathing quickened as he stroked himself, leaning on one arm against the edge of the sink. A bead of sweat rolled from his temple down his cheek. Already he was getting close, his balls starting to tighten up. 

His brain moved things along, putting him on top of his brother now, Sam’s long, coltish legs wrapped around Dean’s waist, his hands gripping Dean’s shoulders, short fingernails digging into his skin as Dean pushed inside, felt the ring of muscle stretch and give, accepting his cock into wet heat. Sam gasped in Dean’s ear as the head of his dick breached the outer ring of muscle, popping inside fully. Dean paused, holding his hips still while he laved at his brother’s long, sweaty neck, giving him time to adjust. With a deep groan, Sam rolled his hips upward, forcing Dean deeper inside him, and Dean took the hint, thrusting his cock forward in one smooth movement until he bottomed out, his balls pressed against Sam’s ass. 

Then Dean was in motion, working up to a fast, pounding pace quickly, fucking his brother’s ass hard with Sam’s moans filling his ears. Their bodies were slick with sweat, easing the slide of flesh against flesh. Dean wrapped his fingers in Sam’s hair, tugging his head back so he could bite and suck at the tender skin of his neck, the sound of their groins slapping together mixing with their grunts of pleasure. Sam’s thighs tightened around Dean’s waist, his hole clenching around Dean’s cock and then his whole body was contracting, his cock spurting against their stomachs as he yelled out, the sound of his brother’s pleasure pushing Dean over the edge, his own cock shooting into Sam’s ass, waves of euphoria pulsing through every inch of his body….

Dean opened his eyes, his hand slowing on his dick. His fingers and the edge of the sink were covered in splatters of come, his legs weak and trembling. He took a few moments to catch his breath, let his vision clear, before wiping up his mess and pulling up his boxers, tucking his spent cock away. He shucked off his jeans and overshirt, splashed his face with cold water once more, then turned off the light and headed back into the bedroom. 

In the silvery light slipping into the room from around the curtains, Dean could see Sam on his bed, eyes closed, breath steady and even. He looked terribly young and innocent in his sleep. More like the little boy Dean had practically raised than the strong man he was in the daylight. 

Dean crawled into his own bed, dragging the covers up over his shoulders as his eyes drifted closed. He knew he’d done the right thing tonight. He was still filled with guilt. 


End file.
